The professor was there before her, bowing, smirking, and asking in his most obsequious tones if Mrs. Raymond would be pleased to alight and walk into the parlor.

“Thank you, no,” Violet said.  “We have come merely to pick up Lulu and take her to church with us.  Come, dear,” to the little girl; “the professor will help you in, if you are quite ready to go.”

“Yes, Mamma Vi,” Lulu answered eagerly, and with the aid of the professor’s hand quickly climbed to her place.

“Mamma Vi, you are very good,” she said, as the carriage rolled on again.

“Yes, isn’t she?” said Max.  “She says she isn’t at all afraid to trust me to drive her.”

“No,” said Violet, smiling affectionately on him; “you do great credit to Uncle Ben’s teaching.  I think your father would be much pleased with your proficiency.”

“Were you expecting us, Lulu?” asked Grace.

“No, indeed!  How should I, when nothing had been said about it?  But oh, I was so glad to see you coming.”

The children seemed happy in being together again and chatted cheerily, Violet occasionally joining in.

She had fully gained their respect and affection, yet they now never felt her presence the slightest damper upon their enjoyment of each other’s society.

On their return, while yet at some little distance from the academy, Violet asked,

“Lulu, dear, do you find yourself quite comfortable and happy at Oakdale—­so that you wish to continue there as a boarder?”

“I wish that rather than to go home again on Grandpa Dinsmore’s conditions,” Lulu said with a frown, and with that the subject was dropped.

CHAPTER XXI.

“Woes cluster; rare are solitary woes: 
They love a train, they tread each other’s heel.”

YOUNG.

For a number of weeks events moved on their even course at Viamede; they were all well and happy, though Lulu’s continued obstinacy caused most of them more or less mental disquietude.

She still remained at Oakdale, making no complaint to any one but Evelyn of her fare or accommodations, and was studious and well-behaved in every respect, except that she steadily refused to have anything whatever to do with Signor Foresti.

She had attended church regularly with the family, had seen them all occasionally on weekdays, but had not been once permitted to visit Viamede, Magnolia Hall, or the parsonage.

If either she or Mr. Dinsmore regretted having begun the struggle which now appeared so interminable, no one else was aware of the fact.

Grace had kept up her habit of driving over to Oakdale every morning and afternoon, and the pleasure of seeing her so often had helped Lulu greatly in the endurance of her exile, as had also her daily intercourse with Max, Evelyn, and Rosie.

But one morning in March they came without Grace, and all looking grave and troubled.